Stepping into Trust
by Caitriona3
Summary: Natasha Romanoff and Tony Stark started on almost opposite ends of the spectrum, and yet here they are - stepping into trust.


_Author's Note – Written for navaan in the Not Prime Time 2015 challenge._

 **Stepping into Trust**

 **A Place to Call Home**

 _I left all I had known_

 _To walk this path of thorns_

 _But I just kept running, running, running_

 _Until I found a place, to call home_

Natasha Romanoff stopped at the doorway, watching through narrowed eyes as Tony Stark welded two pieces of metal together to form some new creation of his. To her it appeared to be a kind of postmodern art, but given his work in the past, she held few doubts as to the technical nature of the 'artwork'. It would no doubt prove to be mindboggling and genius at the same time.

The pounding beat of heavy metal cut off leaving a deep silence to echo through the lab. Her eyes remained steady in their focus as Stark finished the bit of welding in front of him and then turned off the machine. The genius tilted his head to one side.

"JARVIS," he sighed, irritation and resignation both clear in his tone as he removed his eye protectors, "where are my tunes?"

"My apologies, sir," came the crisp voice of Stark's AI majordomo, "but Agent Romanoff is here."

"Romanoff?" Stark repeated before turning around to face her. "Nat?" Something akin to surprise flashed across his eyes before his trademark smirk slipped into place. "Well, well, if it isn't the bad girl of the spy world," he noted. "And what brings you down to this end of the cosmos? Get tired of tossing top secret agencies into the public arena?"

"I…" She stopped, her instincts telling her not to reveal any vulnerabilities. Stark lifted his eyebrow and angled his ear towards her. Natasha forced herself to take a breath and continue. "I…have…nowhere to go."

The mask slipped for a moment and she could see the shifting emotions in his gaze. It was brief, but her shoulders relaxed a little even as he shrugged. "You've had a floor waiting for you since I redesigned this place." JARVIS cleared his electric throat and Stark continued without a break. "Since Pepper and I redesigned this place. Décor was Pepper's job, so take it up with her if you don't like it." He turned away to pick up a wrench before turning back. "No, don't take it up with her – it might upset her. Take it up with JARVIS." He waved the wrench. "JARVIS, fix whatever Nat doesn't like, but nobody tells Pepper, got it?"

"Understood, sir," JARVIS agreed. Natasha lifted her chin, angling her head in agreement.

"Good, good," Stark nodded as he turned back to his 'artwork'. He paused and then turned back. "Was there something else?"

"No," Natasha shook her head. "Than-."

"Yeah, yeah," he waved her off, interrupting any attempt at gratitude. "JARVIS will show you how to get there." He began working on the metal once more. "Tunes! Where are my tunes?"

Music began to pound from the speakers again as Natasha stepped out of the room. She glanced back to see him working. "JARVIS?"

"Yes, Agent Romanoff?"

"I have a floor?" She knew her voice reflected too much emotion, but she could not seem to avoid it.

"All of the Avengers have a floor waiting should they chose to accept Sir's hospitality."

"I see." Natasha watched the unpredictable man work until the elevator doors closed. She wondered if she would ever understand him.

 **Hide and Go Seek**

 _There was a being and he lived on his own_

 _He had no one to talk to and nothing to do._

 _He drew up the plans_

 _Learnt to work with his hands_

"Hide me!"

Stark dashed into her sitting room and ducked into one of the ubiquitous closets spread throughout the Tower.

Natasha blinked. She allowed herself that one expression of surprised exasperation before smoothing her face into neutrality. It took less than a moment to place her book on the table and rise from the couch she spent the last hour lazing upon. Her steps angled towards the closet, but she paused as the bell to her door sounded. She cast a suspicious glance at the closet, but moved to answer the door.

"Where is he?" Doctor Jane Foster stood in the space between the elevator and the door. From the expression on her face, Natasha surmised there had been yet another argument between the two scientists. The petite scientist tried to peer around the spy even as she repeated her demand. "Where is he?"

Natasha lifted a brow. "Excuse me?"

"Stark," Jane fumed.

"Yes, I gathered."

"Sorry?"

A smile flickered over Natasha's face. "You only get that particular expression on your face when dealing with one of two people – Darcy or Stark. As Darcy has yet to return from her emergency trip to her parents' home, that leaves Stark as the source of your ire."

"How do you even know that?" Jane blinked. "About Darcy, I mean?"

"Did you think we'd let her go on her own?" Both of Natasha's eyebrows rose, disbelief clear in her tone.

Jane gave her a bemused frown. "Well-."

"Darcy is connected to you, Thor, and Selvig," the spy pointed out, her voice turning serious. "She has been photographed with Stark and Pepper and certain levels of the intelligence network are aware of her assisting Banner on various outings in the city." Her shoulders lifted in a shrug. "If American intelligence is aware, then you may presume others are as well."

"Who went with her?" Jane demanded. "She was insistent about going alone."

"Barton will keep an eye on her."

Now the scientist rolled her eyes. "Fantastic," she muttered as she started to turn away. "I don't get to hear enough about his arms and his ass and now this? She'll never quit talking about him." Jane managed two steps towards the elevator before she drew herself up short. "Wait a minute," she shook her head. "I still need to know about Stark!"

"Why would Stark pick my floor?" Natasha sighed, letting a hint of amusement color her tone.

"Damn," Jane huffed. "Where the hell did he go?" She did not seem to require an answer and strode back to the elevator, still mumbling under her breath.

Natasha waited until the elevator moved three floors away and then turned back into her apartment. She walked over to the closet in question and smacked the wall once. The door inched open, a mere crack of darkness against the light wall. "Out." She left it at that as she turned back towards the couch and her book.

"Is she gone?" Stark demanded, sticking his head out of the closet and peering around as if expecting an ambush.

"I would have allowed her to drag you out if I intended to let her in."

His lips pursed as he considered the idea and he stepped out of the closet. "Do you know your closet is more organized than half of my design files? You can find anything in there."

"Did you find the katana?"

He frowned. "No."

"Then you didn't find everything."

"Right." Stark tucked his hands into his pockets and rocked a little on his feet. "So, Nat," he gave her his charming smile, "thanks, you know, for-."

She gave him a look. "Out."

Stark's charm never wavered. "And I'm out." He moved towards the door in easy strides. His eyes turned back to meet hers as he opened the door. For a moment he paused, mouth opening to speak, but then it closed and he shook his head. Something moved in his eyes, something she could not quite define – gratitude for certain, but that was not all. His smile softened for a brief moment and he nodded at her.

Then he was gone.

 **Love is a Battlefield**

 _We are strong_

 _No one can tell us we're wrong_

 _Searching our hearts for so long_

 _Both of us knowing_

 _Love is a battlefield_

"Widow! Down!"

Natasha dropped without question, the hot rush of air above her as Iron Man fired at one of their opponents. She rolled to her feet, spinning into a roundhouse kick at another. Her eyes scanned the battlefield as she sought her teammates and assessed their conditions. Red and gold flashed in the corner of her eyes as Iron Man came up beside her.

"Did Hawkeye go find the most insane enemies he could?" Stark's voice, modulated through the armor, sounded part exasperated, part amused.

"He excels at odd choices," Natasha replied, one corner of her mouth ticking up in a hint of amusement. A motion in her peripheral vision drew her attention. "Move!" He shot into the air and she flicked her wrist. A small knife cut through the air to embed itself in the neck of a clown.

"What is it with Birdbrain and circuses anyway?" Stark demanded as he landed beside her once more.

She lifted a brow but remained silent and the two of them watched as their companions finish with the crazed 'Circus of Crime' or whatever it was they called themselves. She made a mental note to give Barton hell in their next sparring session for this particular pack of psychos. Barton's ability to find the craziest types of trouble grew more worrisome with each incident.

"Barton's brand of oddballs," Stark huffed. His faceplate flipped up and he gave her a quick grin. "So, dinner, dancing, and all around debauchery?" he asked.

Natasha blinked and then gave herself permission to roll her eyes. "You're lucky I even trust you, Stark."

"I'm willing to cut it back to dinner and dancing for tonight," he offered as a compromise even as he flashed his showman's smile at her. "You could call me Tony, you know."

"When you look like that?" She shook her head. " _That_ is Stark." One sculpted eyebrow went up as her gaze focused on his. "Drop the act…and I _might_ call you Tony."

"Right." He frowned, his fingers shifting in a restless manner as he seemed to consider her words. With any luck at all he would take her words as she intended – bait for the future. "Ah…not sure if I can tone that down."

"Try." She turned to walk back towards their team. It might be slow going, but the puzzle of their relationship took on more of a form every day. She looked forward to seeing the finished product. What would it be like, she wondered. To have a permanent connection to someone like Tony Stark – beyond the team, beyond the work? To have a personal connection? The idea almost grew larger than her ability to contain it. She could still remember their first real meeting – and her first judgment.

To have come this far, this fast…it boggled the mind.

"Hey, Nat?"

She glanced over her shoulder and met his eyes. "Yes?"

This time Tony's smile appeared genuine as he tipped his head towards her. His words locked another piece of the puzzle into place. "I trust you too."


End file.
